At this moment, it is 8:57 p.m.

I just got out of an extra long, extra soapy shower.  After putting Georgia down for bed, I said to myself “Self, it's Friday.  Live it up.  Party like a rockstar.”  So, while Stuart and Jeremy sat in the living room working on a guitar and mandolin Irish-ditty-duet, I snuck into the bathroom for some quiet time.  Oh, was it a joy.  Guess what I did?  Okay, I'll tell you:

I shaved my legs.  Why, oh, why do I avoid doing this like I do?  I'll tell you why.  Because I have really really soft leg hair.  It's not pokey.  It's like baby hair.  Plus, it's blond.  Easily forgotten and avoidable.  But every time I shave, I remember that silky goodness.  I remember how nice it is to have smooth, bald legs.  So simple.  So rewarding.  So feminine!  It transforms me from a hairy, caveman into something resembling a female.  It makes me feel like I need to go strut around in some rockin' high heels.  However, I have never NEVER been able to walk in high heels.  Not once.  Not even a little bit.  I'm not even close.  At all.  So scratch that idea.  I'll just go strut around in my slippers instead.  Oh ya.

Guess what else I did.

Okay, I'll tell you.  I painted my toes.  Which I haven't done since Georgia was born.  Oh lawdy, was that wonderful.  They look like ten wee-little cherries all lined up in a row.  I keep staring at them because they look so….so….girly.  And I like it!  I went with a “firecracker red” because heck, it's Friday and all.

Then….I flossed.  Because rockstars floss.  Man, things are getting wild!

After lathering up in a lotion of coconut oil (TRY THIS…oh my) I went to step out of the bathroom in my towel until, whoops, I remembered my brother-in-law was visiting.  Rewind I go…back into the bathroom I crept.  I forgot to bring my jammies in with me…dang.  Lucky for me, Stuart has a habit of not picking his clothes up off the bathroom floor.  *Sniff* *Sniff* I gently smelled the armpits of his white tee shirt that lay strewn on the floor.  “Not too bad for a guy's armpits” I thought, so I put it on.  The sweatpants looked pretty clean, so I snagged those too.  As feminine as I felt after shaving my legs and painting my toes, I am now dressed in a man's tee shirt and sweats (which fit me wonderfully).  

Because Stuart and I wear the same size almost.

Quite laughing.  It's not funny. 

Seriously.  I have a complex about the fact that he can fit into my jeans.

Quite smiling while you picture that in your head. 

At this moment, I am so thankful to have had thirty minutes alone.  I have transformed from a hairy legged, pale-toed, dirty mouthed caveman to a bald, cherry-toed, man-pajama-wearing princess with clean teeth.

Thank you Lord, for this moment.

Cheers to feeling feminine my friends.

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